


I Like You (난 니가 좋아)

by lalalia



Category: GOT7
Genre: Internal Conflict, M/M, Things sort of happen quickly, a few bad jokes, idolverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-15 23:02:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18508861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalalia/pseuds/lalalia
Summary: It had been unexpected, when Jinyoung seemingly confessed on Japanese national television.And Jaebum was not able to get that out of his head.





	I Like You (난 니가 좋아)

**Author's Note:**

> Time to resurrect this account
> 
> a new fandom a new ship whaaaaat
> 
> Disclaimer: Not necessarily chronological  
> and idk about y'all but when i heard jb ga daisuki i sHriEked
> 
> so yeah that's what prompted this
> 
> but also,,,,, bold of me to assume they aren't already together 
> 
> (jk i don't believe in ships)

“JBga daisuki.”

_JBga daisuki._

The words rang in Jaebum’s ears again, for perhaps the millionth time. 

It had been over 6 hours since they wrapped up their filming for Abema tv in Japan, as a part of their promotions for _I won’t let you go_. Over 6 hours since he’d heard those words directed at him like a confession, but not really.  
Or was it?

The room was dark, but not quite, a little bit of light permeated through the room under the cracks, and the shape of the room and the furniture and the upholstery was new and intriguing, and that was what was keeping him up so late, through the exhaustion. At least, that was what he told himself.

Jaebum pulled his sheets up and over his nose and ears. The chill wind of the air conditioning was dehydrating, but maybe that was not why he felt a headache brewing. It had been over 6 hours, but he could still hear the way the interviewer’s voice rang out in the quiet of the show’s set, weaving through the crew and echoing in his ears. Vaguely, he remembered BamBam commenting about the strange atmosphere, but everything else was blurry, muffled, and at the moment, shell-shocked and boggled out of his skull, he had found himself staring at the blithe back of the head of the perpetrator, who was casually agreeing to the statement (which was “ _JBga daisuki_ ” if it had, perchance, slipped your mind). 

Jinyoung knew Japanese, better than any other member he’d say. He knew exactly what he had been saying. 

And he’d gone off on an explanation, about how they’d been together for almost 10 years, and how perfectly balanced they were, how they respected each other’s boundaries, and it had made Jaebum’s stomach pull with something familiar, but something so completely new altogether. It was like looking at a jar of water and suddenly just _knowing_ that it had been vodka all along. The revelation was thrilling, and admittedly more than its fair share of scary.

Jaebum remembered that he’d participated in this discussion, but he didn’t remember what he had said. Hopefully something reserved and diplomatic and nothing panicked.

They _were_ perfectly balanced, he couldn’t argue with that. They _were_ exceedingly appreciative of each other. They did know each others’ boundaries, and they did have oodles of respect and admiration for each other. They did just.....fit. It was so obvious to Jaebum now, but it had just taken him someone saying it out aloud in a quiet-ass filming set for it to fall into place in his head. Like a puzzle piece that was complete, but just not pressed together properly, and now that it was, he could see the full picture.

The words reverberated in his skull once more, and before Jaebum could over-analyse too much, the physical and mental exhaustion took over, and the jet lag helped pull him into the chasm of a deep and dreamless sleep.

 

//

 

If there was something troubling him, the first thing Jaebum usually did was talk to the boys, just try to get it out of him and into the open world instead of simmering in his head until it eventually exploded. But this sort of thing....he couldn’t even harbour the thought of telling them something like this.

They’d gotten back from Japan quite a while ago. Hell, they’d even been to Thailand again, and now they were finally back in Korea. At home, the only place where he never (sort of) thought about work and could unwind without feeling guilty. He could also solve many of his problems here by thinking it out, usually, because things that didn’t occur to others with humanly schedules as problems loomed over people like him who had no time to waste by pondering upon this and that. This must be one of those. Once he laid down on his bed with a full tummy and freshly washed hair he was going to forget what exactly it was about that day that had even bothered him so much.

Jaebum wriggled his toes in his socks, temperature set lower than usual so he could emulate the cool and cosy feel of rainy nights. It propelled his cognition, although making him a bit sleepy and careless. As a bonus it also made him feel small under his duvet where he planned to bundle up with his cats. They seemed to love to share his heat when it got cold like this.

Jaebum noticed Nora abandon her scratch-post and flounce gracefully towards him. He grinned and waited for her to leap up and snuggle by his neck, as she was one to do.

(And then lay in wait until he rolled around in his sleep, only to pass out at the dip of his back and wake him up (because he was sensitive there hush), but he could hardly ever complain because she was the cutest two-faced demon baby ever.)

But the cat halted by the foot of the bed, and stared at him with her glassy eyes, suddenly unsure of him.  
Okay?

“Nora,” he called sweetly. Nora eyed him strangely.

Shit, could cats sense internal discomfort? 

Jaebum had been thinking of putting off the thinking for after his cats had all crowded around him, but he was pretty sure Odd was asleep on the toilet seat and the others were hanging out somewhere in their playpen downstairs. He only had his tan friend for company.

Nora’s tail flicked back and forth like a pendulum, the rest of her stock-still. It was a little frightening to see her exhibit such behaviour that was so unlike her.

“There aren’t any ghosts here, are there?” he queried light-heartedly. Nora stared on.

“At least meow?” he asked, a little nervous now.

Maybe it was because thoughts of Jinyoung had already begun to unfurl in his head despite his plans, but a shock from the past trickled into his brain along with it. Didn’t Jinyoung meow for him once? When Jaebum had been asked to choose between him and his cat? 

Yeah. Jaebum had put on his most sincere face and pretended to be seriously considering the question, and he’d dragged it out for far too long, because Jinyoung had then told everyone that he was actually called Nora. As if Jaebum would have really picked Nora over him. It had made him a little uneasy that Jinyoung had even thought that for second, but maybe he had just been kidding, playing along. Then he’d meowed, and the fans had screamed and his eyes had been up to the brim with sparkling mischief, and Jaebum’s heart had rolled over and died. Even then, he’d found it just so goddamn cute. Jinyoung trying to get his affection like that. But now...

Nora padded off with her tail high in the air while he was preoccupied with his thoughts.

“Fine,” Jaebum spat out after her insolently. “This is why I like Jinyoung better than you.”

 

//

 

It had been foolish of Jaebum to assume that he could get away with things somersaulting around in his head when he had to hang around a set of boys who were generally observant and excessively concerned.

It didn’t get resolved that night, to his great dismay. After Nora had left to do god knew what, Jaebum had been alone in his huge bed, and thoughts of Jinyoung and everything he had done, everything he had said in their past many years together, had run through his head, and he’d had no hold over them. And he’d found himself trying to figure out if maybe, _maybe_ , he’d just missed some essential clues. It hadn’t been a pleasant night, because after a while, things he had begun to imagine had become too far-stretched, and he had to wonder if it was because that was what _he_ wanted.....?

In any case, Jackson pounced on him the moment they were left alone.

“Hyung, you alright?” he asked in his ear, kneading Jaebum’s knuckles in his hands.

Jaebum tried to look nonchalant. How effective it was, he couldn’t tell. 

Jackson narrowed his eyes, so maybe not all that effective.  
“You seem lost,” and it was just like Jackson to hit it right on the head like that. He was smarter than many people credited him with, and that was why he sometimes he found it hard to trust himself, but that was in the past. He was getting much better with it now, which didn’t mean good things for Jaebum’s current situation.

“I’m just, y’know,” he said non-commitally. He didn’t want Jackson to worry, obviously. “Mulling things over. I’ll be fine.”  
Jackson forced a smile and let his worried eyes linger over Jaebum’s face for a few more seconds. He looked puzzled, like he couldn’t read Jaebum well, which was a relief, but it drove Jaebum to try and hide it better.

Didn’t help that Jinyoung looked great today.

Neatly groomed. Well-rested. Dressed prim and preppy, with a fitted shirt and pants that were a bit too tight at the hips and thighs to be formal.

Laughing with the others in high spirits and being absolutely _radiant_. 

_Don’t be weird don’t be weird don’t be weird...._  
It was just a word. Jinyoung had said ‘saranghae’ to him many times. It was just like one of those times for him, and so it should be for Jaebum. Nothing to be misconstrued. It was supposed to be a blue heart.

Jaebum feigned normalcy, but he must have been too quiet, or too obviously avoiding Jinyoung’s proximity, because before they left the company, Yugyeom pulled him aside.  
“Im leader ssi,” he chirped.

“Yes, Yugyeom-doongie?” An old moniker, from when Mark had taken to calling him that whenever he saw him around the dorm.

That had been long ago. Sometimes, he missed having them around, but as close as they were spiritually and emotionally, some physical distance had been required (although he couldn’t remember now _why_ ) for them to balance everything out. For now, he just had to trust past-Jaebum’s decision and not cause more confusions.

As if he wasn’t confused enough already.

Yugyeom’s neck dipped a little, something he did unconsciously when he wanted to speak to Jaebum in an inconspicuous manner, something that annoyed the crap out of him.

“You seem off,” Yugyeom noted.

Jaebum pressed his lips together, warming up for the realest fake-smile he could muster.

“I’ll be on soon,” he joked (in bad taste), and smiled. Thought and prayed _hopefully_ in his head, but the crude feeling of dread that settled in his stomach didn’t leave him feeling too optimistic.

His smile tightened. “Don’t worry about it,” he assured anyway.

 

On his way home, he allowed himself to think about it. He didn’t know why he thought it would help. It clearly had done more damage than good the other day.

Only one possibility kept surfacing and resurfacing, but Jaebum couldn’t even fathom dealing with something like that right now.

He looked out the window, and his eyes chanced upon a park he’d gone to with Jinyoung while they had still been trainees.  
He glared at that rotten swing-set that they’d sat at and said nothing. Mind and heart in incongruent chaos.

 

//

 

Jaebum was only in the clear as long as he didn’t get stuck alone with any of the other members.

But unfortunately(?), they were a group with group activities, and despite the fervent preparations that were going on for Jus2’s debut, they had plenty of those group activities still that they had to go to together.

Mark climbed into the car after Jaebum had spent about 5 minutes agonising in the amicable silence with Yugyeom. He’d been hoping that Yugyeom wouldn’t bring it up again, because up until now only Mark hadn’t asked after him. Literally Jinyoung, the causative agent for his whole debacle, had furrowed his brow at him for 40 whole minutes until Jaebum had relented and told him not to worry and that he’d be fine.

“How goes it?” Mark asked as a greeting. 

“Fine,” Jaebum answered when Yugyeom didn’t, the brat pretending to not hear, when clearly he was just reading a book on his phone with nothing flowing through his ear-buds. Maybe he was too invested? 

Mark clicked his seat-belt into place, turning to Jaebum with his lips in a sassy line, clearly seeing through his lie.

“Tell me it’s fine when you’ve finally realised how much of a stone wall you are,” he chided.

“I’m not a stone wall,” Jaebum protested weakly, but whichever way the wind blew Mark was still older and could choose to gloss over him.

“Get your shit together, for the love of everything that is sacred,” Mark said. He seemed... impatient? Which was odd, because Mark was probably the most patient in the group.

“My shit is together,” Jaebum said, but was once again, sadly, utterly ignored. Yugyeom’s lips betrayed a smile.

“When are you even going to speak to Jinyoung?” were Mark’s next words, and it felt like Jaebum’s insides had been iced. “You know you can’t solve this by sulking alone.”

Jaebum’s throat closed up. No way he knew. _No way._

If he knew, then Jinyoung had every chance of knowing.  
Oh God. 

Venom swirled with the frost in his gut and his lungs malfunctioned momentarily, his vocal cords swelling in terror to block off his throat.

He couldn’t have Jinyoung knowing. Just couldn’t. The poor, innocent man trusted Jaebum so much, too much, that Jaebum couldn’t ever face him with something like this. He couldn’t afford to throw their carefully crafted friendship away. They’d both put so much time and effort into making it the elegant ice sculpture it was now, and there was no reason to ponder about the what ifs, and if he could have made it out of wood instead. And that would mean they’d having to scrap their sculpture and start anew. That would entail dealing with the hurt of discarding their ice sculpture that they had invested their time and energy on, that many had enjoyed looking at, and the two themselves had been proud to show off.

(He could argue that many of the fans so far have perceived the sculpture as wooden anyway. Whatever.)

He didn’t know what he was getting at. Mark’s knowing eyes drilled holes into him, and the circuits in his brain misfired and now here he was. Philosophising about ice sculptures.

“You don’t have to be so afraid, y’know?” Mark said, voice gone soft and mumbled over barely parting lips. He adjusted the position of his neck pillow. “Things might actually work out for the best.”

Ohmygod what did he know _what did he know?!_  
And _how?!_

Jaebum turned around and around in his seat to glance around anxiously. The driver hyung-nim was still not in the car, and all the windows were closed. Yugyeom bore a small, noticeable smile, but perhaps it was for the alphabets on the page, and he was still oblivious to everything.

 

//

 

More than a year ago. He remembered every detail of working with Jinyoung on Tomorrow, today, although it had been over a year ago.

He remembered everything. He should have been suspicious even then, when he could not but smile whenever he thought about their time putting Verse 2 together, depending and relying on one another. 

But what he remembered most was Jinyoung’s eyes.  
Jaebum had been the one to direct Jinyoung’s parts in that song. He’d told him where he wanted more stress, more emotion, more breath, and Jinyoung had delivered perfectly. He’d looked through the glass and into Jaebum’s eyes, giving his all, chin lifting as he gathered the feeling from his stomach.

Jaebum had never seen such gently burning passion. Looking into Jinyoung’s eyes at that moment was like looking into lava down below. Bright, sluggish in it’s pace, but sweltering and powerful, making the air loopy with immense heat, warning the on-looker that if he feel into it he would be instantly vapourized.

But Jinyoung’s eyes could take other forms. Startlingly different other forms.

During the performances, when they had to face each other for the choreo, it was only thanks to Jaebum’s muscle memory that he was even able to go through with the performance. Jinyoung’s eyes chained him down then with icy, iron shackles of burdened grief, and the amount of times Jaebum had to force his arms away from closing around Jinyoung was numerous.

When they’d had to sing it facing each other for that Dingo music thing, it had only been even harder. There had been a camera looking over Jinyoung’s shoulder, just as there had been a camera looking over his, and he knew he had to occasionally look at that for his individual shots, but he couldn’t. His palms and scalp, up to the tips of his spine tingled with the unspoken urge to ease Jinyoung’s difficulties away. Although later he’d come to know that it hadn’t been real, Jinyoung’s eyes had screamed fear, wide and innocuous and scared, tinged red with gathering tears, and Jaebum had not been able to look away.

Either way, his eyes always sent Jaebum’s heart flopping down pathetically to the pits of his stomach. 

Maybe Jinyoung was just too good of an actor.

Jaebum confirmed this as a fact when he sat down to watch _He is Psychometric_ with Mark and Youngjae, at Youngjae’s place one lazy Saturday.

Lee Ahn was not Jinyoung. He was Jinyoung in form, but nothing else. Jinyoung with his adorable dorkiness set to a hundred, maybe. Through the screen his eyes told him fantastical stories of the bliss of oblivious youth and naïveté, the wonders of first love and harmless mischief. Jaebum wondered if he could ever catch him looking like that in real life. It was awfully enchanting.

They’d gone through a few episodes when it happened.  
Youngjae shrieked and dusted popcorn bits off his hands, although nothing significant had happened in the show. He covered Jaebum’s eyes with one hand to the back of his head, ensuring his imprisonment.

Jaebum fought back feebly, still feeling a few bits of popcorn pressed into his skin, popcorn dust causing Youngjae’s thumb to slip over his brow. Youngjae hadn’t been very thorough, and Jaebum feared for his life. What if they got into his eyes? A painful way to go. 

Jaebum stayed stock-still. “What are you doing?” he asked, suspicious.

“I can’t let you see this, bro,” Youngjae said dramatically, like he couldn’t imagine the horror of it if Jaebum saw what was to happen.

Jaebum wasn’t going to lie, it prodded at his curiosity a little.  
He wrestled off Youngjae’s hand easily, only to catch the female lead kissing Jinyoung on the screen.

Fake-Jinyoung’s eyes told him that he was just as confused as Jaebum was, and then fake-Jinyoung woke up, ending the dream sequence.

Youngjae clutched his shirt, right over his heart. “It was just a dream!” he proclaimed.

“How is that a relief?” Mark questioned from his spot on the beanbag. Coco startled on his lap from the sudden rise in volume. “He still just saw Jinyoung kissing someone else in high definition,” he said, pitch going wild, and flapped his arm ridiculously at Youngjae. “Big fail, bro.”

Youngjae grinned sheepishly and looked apologetic.

Someone _else._

“Why does that matter?” Jaebum barked out. Here was Mark, suggesting again that he initiate something. He still didn’t know how he knew, over even how much, but it hit too close. And Youngjae was in on it too? How could they?!

Jinyoung was their friend too. They, of all people, should know all the multiple different ways enabling Jaebum could go horrifically wrong. And Jaebum was their friend as well. They should have known how sensitive the subject was to him. They should have known to ignore it, just as Jaebum had learned to do.

Youngjae shrugged. “It doesn’t,” he said, not really affected, but Mark was letting off genuine worry.

“Stop it,” Jaebum told him. Both the worrying at the moment and the trying to get Jaebum to talk to Jinyoung in the long run. He hoped Mark would get it in all its desperate and pleading intonation.

Mark stared for a split second longer. He looked away.

 

//

 

If there was a way to stop being cornered in closed cars by his friends, Jaebum still hadn’t learned it.

Up until now, ever since Mark had first given him some advice about the thing that was unfortunately _still_ haunting Jaebum to the day, Mark had found a way to be in the same car as him whenever he could. Because he knew. They all knew.

There was nothing like having deep conversations in parked cars. Better than hotel rooms by an infinite light years.

Bur after that tv marathon session at Youngjae’s, Mark had kept his distance. Jaebum still caught him throwing mysterious glances his way, but he didn’t approach him with his certain topic of discussion thereafter.

Doesn’t mean he couldn’t have masterminded the whole situation wherein now Jaebum was in a car with Jinyoung. And just Jinyoung.

And just Jinyoung was enough to overthrow the amount of awkward energy there had been with Mark, Yugyeom, BamBam AND Youngjae in the same car with him.  
(How that had happened was Jinyoung had elsewhere to be, and they didn’t want to split up with just 5 people. And since Jackson was too busy to join them most days now, the members usually spilt into two groups of 3. Or two groups of 2 and 4, which was how today happened. Yugyeom had wanted to sit with BamBam and BamBam had wanted to sit with Youngjae. Jaebum had scrunched his nose at their childish wishes.)

And Mark had just smiled. _I’ll ride with them_ , he’d said, like he was just keeping out of Jaebum’s way, but there was no way he couldn’t have known.

Jaebum seethed internally, sending impolite words telepathically to the criminal as Jinyoung sat next to him in the parked car. 

Like back when they were promoting Verse 2. 

Jinyoung was scrolling through fan-café. Jaebum didn’t know what he’d asked, but the answers flooded in soon, first in illegible key-board smashes, and then in heaps of both perfectly articulated essays and short, quirky little bursts of hilarity.

Jinyoung smiled as he read through them. Jaebum knew the feeling. Their fans were so funny and interesting, it was not even a joke.

“If I shared your closet I would have an endless supply of hoodies and bucket hats, someone has said,” Jinyoung said, picking out the words directly from his screen. “Is that so.....” he dragged distractedly.

Jaebum furiously fought to mask the flush on his face.  
“You’d have a lot of space for all of your goddamn shirts, is what you’d have,” Jaebum muttered grumpily, picking at a thread that was on his pants. “Because, because I don’t use my hanging space. I fold my hoodies, and I’m surely not going to let you borrow them.” 

Jesus fuck, _what was he even saying._

Jinyoung frowned. Jaebum was about to risk it all.

“The fans will be disappointed to hear that,” Jinyoung said, and it seemed that it was not just the fans who’d feel that way.

Jaebum didn’t know why he was suddenly being so averted to sharing his clothes with Jinyoung. When they’d been in the dorm, he’d had no problem when the others waltzed in and borrowed his stuff without asking. 

Well, maybe. Maybe because of the fact that Jaebum actually really, _really wanted_ Jinyoung to borrow his clothes was why he was so afraid to admit it.

“You can have my hoodies as long as you return them. Laundered,” Jaebum amended, too quietly. “And either way, the fans don’t have to know.”

And that was true. Sometimes it was better for the fans to use their imagination. It gave the idols their well-deserved privacy, and the fans everything they could possibly want under the reaches of their minds.

“If I wore your clothes, they’d know,” Jinyoung said. He slanted his seat and laid back, locking his phone and dropping it on his chest face down. The thing slid down to his lap anyway, and Jaebum watched it go. The path it traced gave Jaebum the impression that there was nothing but toned muscle underneath. “They’re very observant that way.”

Jaebum looked away hurriedly, humming in agreement. He remembered that one time when he’d convinced Jinyoung (with not much pleading, if his memory served) to wear the matching pair to his new Simpsons ring that he was so excited about, and the fans had noticed in no time at all.  
There had been some flares of rumours then, but they’d quickly died out.

Their fans were observant. Perhaps, more observant than him. They saw things before he did. Maybe that held true for.....?

No. There was no reason to get his hopes up like that. There were too many important things at stake.

 

//

 

Before he knew it, it was time for his third ever debut.  
It was great to work with the ever-impressive, giant baby man. Yugyeom teased him mercilessly, with no regard to the few years he had over him, but all that was cancelled out, he felt, when he looked at him with his transparently adoring eyes.

Yugyeom had been the easiest to earn the affection of. They’d just hung out together all the time and the boy had somehow come to trust him, enough to call him later when he was under stress. Not his parents. Not anyone else. Him.  
And that had scored points with him. After that, he’d started to feel affectionate towards him as well. The feeling had only continued to grow, and strengthen once they came together as Got7, until they became disgustingly smitten with each other.

It wasn’t that Jaebum saw that same helpless child who needed his comfort. He saw a kid who’d grown with him, learned and changed with him, admired and cared deeply for him. And he reciprocated (secretly. It would be horrendous if people figured out just how mushy he was on the inside for a bunch of dudes.)

Promotions came and Jaebum was again too busy to think. He didn’t see Jinyoung as much either. Out of sight, out of mind and all that.

But one night, a week into promotions, it was maybe 1 am. Yugyeom was with him at the practice room, they had to check every move once more, since they were going to record them for a few dance practice videos later on. They were both star-fishing on the floor, trying to get their spirits back into their bodies, as you do, when Jaebum got a call.  
At first he didn’t consider picking up, but the caller let it ring for a long time, that Jaebum picked himself up off of the floor, back throbbing, fearing the worst as he dragged his feet towards his backpack at one corner of the room.

Jinyoung. 

Jaebum’s mouth went a little dry. He smacked his lips to regain moisture. He slid the green button up.

“Hello?”

_“Hyung?”_

He glanced around furtively. Yugyeom was still on the floor with his mouth hanging open. 

“You aren’t asleep,” he observed.

_“Neither are you.”_

“I’m at dance practice.”

The line crackled with Jinyoung’s sigh.

_“You’re very busy these days.”_

“Hm,” Jaebum said, mind racing to find something to say before remembering that Jinyoung had been the one to call him. His gut twisted uncharacteristically. “And?”

_“I’m just saying.”_

Jaebum lifted the phone off his ear and glared at it weirdly.

“Hm?” 

_“You’re busy.”_

“Yes.”

_“I miss you.”_

Jaebum’s breath was knocked out of him. Jinyoung sounded sincere. He spoke the words quietly and quickly, a little agitated and fidgety. He did say things like this sometimes, not too guarded around his fellows who he considered his second family at this point. But only sometimes. When he felt that he couldn’t handle things by himself.

“You do?” Jaebum breathed. 

Pause.

 _“It’s very late.”_ And there it was, the inevitable backtracking. There was only so much the man could put into words without devolving into a puddle of goo and self-consciousness.

Jaebum’s head spun, feeling vertigo all of a sudden. Feelings of gratitude and guilt and joy clashed around in his head, throbbing at his back with the humming fatigue of relentless dance practice. Jaebum crouched down to the ground and braced his forehead against the smooth wall to ease his pain.

He closed his eyes.

“It is,” he said. He imagined Jinyoung would be in bed right now. Tired, emotionally spent, and a little embarrassed, but not wanting to be by himself in the dark.  
What he would give to have the right words tumbling out of him right now.

Instead: “You should sleep,” he said. What he meant was that that might help clear his head, and if not, help him save energy to do so later. It came out sounding helplessly worried and flat.

_“Yeah. Good night.”_

They disconnected with a sullen click. Jaebum fell over backwards, onto his butt, feeling lonely and miserable.

Long, long ago, Jinyoung had said something to him. _I can’t without you, hyung._

Jaebum had interpreted that as him not being able to handle the other dudes without him there to help out. That one week he’d spent away from them, at the jungle, Jinyoung had really had a tough time. Jaebum couldn’t imagine having all 5 of them together and not having Jinyoung with him to do some co-patrolling and fulfil his additional duties as damage control.

But maybe Jinyoung couldn’t handle idol life without him.  
He was too credulous. Jaebum didn’t deserve that.  
Jinyoung shared his experience of being an idol in every way. And in that sense, he guessed he was the only one Jinyoung could fully fall into. And here he was tainting that with... whatever it was that he was feeling. 

The need to keep him in his pocket and tote him around adoringly, and not share him with anyone. That was the closest to an explanation that he’d gotten to in these 5 arduous months.

But that was stupid. Jinyoung didn’t want to be pocketed. He wanted Jaebum to be his best friend, and a sturdy companion through the trials of being a celebrity, and that’s what he was going to be.

 

//

 

Jaebum wondered if flowers would be too much.

He was a concerned friend, alright? He was a close friend, worried by his friend’s call from last night. Jinyoung had sounded forlorn and lost, and maybe a little alone, and it was the least he could do. As a concerned friend. Okay, but admittedly, bringing him flowers would be too much. Why his mind even brought that up, he didn’t want to question.

Sometimes, when Jaebum was alone, he wished one of his friends would drop by unannounced. It was the ultimate way to show someone you cared and that you thought about them unprompted, and it was the least Jinyoung deserved.

And so Jaebum stood, flowerless and sweaty, hands cold and heavy and empty, on Jinyoung’s classy doormat.

Was it too late to get, like, a rice-in-a-cup?

Jaebum swallowed. They were close enough to forego formalities. There was no reason to feel this nervous.

But, he guessed, there was something to look forward to. How Jinyoung would receive him. Because catching him off guard was a sure-fire way of getting him to express his feelings with utmost candor. He wanted to know if something had changed between them, or if all of that was just in his head.

His arm was lead as he raised it to ring the bell.

But everything was light and fuzzy when the door opened. Because the look on Jinyoung’s face was worth all the stars.

When the door got out of their way, Jinyoung’s eyes fell over Jaebum for a moment of analysis, just for a split second before recognition dawned. With it, came the brightest of smiles Jaebum had ever seen, lips stretched closely over his perfect teeth, reaching up to his eyes, which crinkled into pools of yellow warmth, radiating happiness. 

“Hyung!” he breathed, elated. He stepped aside to let him in.  
The way Jinyoung gestured at the room, with his arm spread magnanimously, Jaebum no longer felt inadequate. There was no need for rice-in-a-cup or flowers or anything like that, when Jinyoung would feel such boundless joy with just his arrival. 

There was nothing different. Jinyoung still invited Jaebum into his space so willingly and ceremoniously. 

Jaebum threw himself on the familiar sofa. There was a crease to his left which he knew Mark had made, since he practically lived here with how often he dropped by to chill.

Jinyoung set about clearing the coffee table, smile waning but barely. “Damn, I would have cleaned up a bit if I’d known you were coming!” he said hospitably.

“No you wouldn’t have,” Jaebum teased. 

Jinyoung looked up through his fringe. “No, but I would have at least made you something to eat,” he amended, a little annoyed. On observing Jaebum’s disbelieving face, he continued, “Okay, I would’ve bought something,” he relented begrudgingly. He smiled in a sheepish sort of way, averting his eyes. When he looked back up, after a few more seconds of straightening out the scanty contents of the table, Jaebum was still eyeing him with amusement. Jinyoung matched his gaze, albeit looking embarrassed. “Shut up,” he said.

Jeez, what had gone wrong in Jaebum’s head? Here he was. Jinyoung. It was Jinyoung, just Jinyoung, arguably Jaebum’s closest friend, smiling down at him, hair in his eyes, in fucking _sweatpants_ , but, inexorably, unexplainably, Jaebum’s heart leaped up to his throat, the tips of his fingers tingling with the ache to reach up and brush away the offending strands.

Jaebum swallowed nervously, for maybe the tenth time that day. 

Jesus. Jinyoung had never made him feel nervous before. It was so immature, so childish of Jaebum to get so lost over just a couple of adoring words from _months_ ago.  
What would he have done right now, at this moment, if things were all normal?

Jaebum’s left hand flew up surreptitiously to push Jinyoung’s hair back. It was quick, not too quick, but it was a minimal action that didn’t take long to do, but still Jaebum was red in the face by the end of it.

Jinyoung, on the other hand, did not seem to care. He thanked him out of practice and continued to neaten the books.

Normal. 

Normal was good. Normal was great. Normal was a distraction, a mask. Hopefully, he could pull ‘normal’ off.  
Jinyoung sat down next to him, too close, but that was normal.

Jaebum’s thighs burned with the contact. It was like he was sensitized to Jinyoung’s every touch, which didn’t bode well with him. 

“So,” Jaebum said, but it was too small, sound dead in his throat. He cleared out the nerves and tried again. “How have you been?”

Jinyoung beamed. “I’ve been good,” he replied. “And hyung?”

“A little busier than usual,” he admitted. 

This stirred the memory of their phone call last night. Jinyoung must have gotten reminded of that too, because he laid his head lightly on Jaebum’s arm and held his elbow so feather-light, like a tether that would make sure Jaebum didn’t drift far away again. Jinyoung was used to making affectionate gestures like this, but he always, _always_ , hid his face. Just like he was doing now, tucking his chin down so Jaebum couldn’t see much but the pink on his high cheeks.

“I noticed,” Jinyoung mumbled.

“The others are too chaotic, aren’t they?” Jaebum sympathized in a lulling rumble. He laid a hand protectively over where Jinyoung held him. “Especially when I’m not around?”

Jinyoung hummed, and Jaebum could imagine him letting his eyes fall shut, profoundly comforted by his best friend’s presence. He didn’t speak, lest he do the unthinkable and wake him.

But Jinyoung was not asleep.

“You wanna order something?” he asked after a few moments of peaceful quiet. “Watch tv?”

Jaebum had not intended to spend that much time here, but the cat bowls had been full when he left, and he didn’t have to be at the company until late after dinner, so he agreed. Plus, being here with Jinyoung was so serene and surreal that he might have pushed things around anyway to stay just a little while longer, trapped willingly in Jinyoung’s tender hold on him.

 

//

 

It had been quarter past 11 when Jaebum was returning home from work. Quite early, compared to the usual. That was why he’d made the choice to walk.

Jaebum liked looking at the shops. They were lit up at night, looking quite different, with artificial light bouncing around incongruously and leaving no shadows, too white and too flattering. Sugar-coated, almost like a filter, just like idol life was portrayed to the masses.

It was more or less the same each time, but Jaebum liked to do things out of the routine to stir his creative drive. Ideas came to him at the most disarming of times, especially when what he was doing had nothing to do with work. He reckoned it was because he was always thinking about work at least on a small scale in some subterranean part of his brain.

A clothes shop caught his eye. A particular item, in fact, caught his eye. But he turned his head and kept walking. It was not like he needed any more additions to his closet. It wasn’t his style anyway.

But he hadn’t looked at it for himself.

Because 30 minutes later, it was laid out on his bed, now legally his.

Jaebum turned on all of his lights to emulate the ones at the shop. The thing floating over his sheets now was just about the fuzziest pink sweater ever, almost worryingly innocent-looking against the pure whiteness of his bed. Kunta gave the sweater one of his many unimpressed faces from Jaebum’s pillow.

It wasn’t just the demon baby who wasn’t feeling positive about the thing. Jaebum was so mad at himself, looking down at his recent purchase. It was a fucking _baby pink fuzzy sweater_ , and the first thing that had come to mind when he saw it on the display rack was how exasperatingly cute Jinyoung would look in it. And then, although he’d tried to shake the idea out of his head, he’d gone back and _fucking bought it._

Now the question arose. Would Jinyoung like it?

Jaebum snapped a picture and sent it to him.

 

Me:  
_jpg. attached_

Ji Nyoungie:  
Oooh cute  
Since when do you wear cute shit

Me:  
It was an impulse buy  
But at least it’s cute

Ji Nyoungie:  
But you don’t cute

Me:  
I might

Ji Nyoungie:  
Don’t get me wrong  
You’re hella cute  
But you don’t wear cute shit  
You wear black, dark black and mild black  
And sometimes you might venture a blue  
But that only happens  
Once in a blue moon

Me:  
Ew  
I have more colours in my wardrobe than you do

Ji Nyoungie:  
In any case  
Idk man I don’t see you wearing it ¯\\(ツ)/¯

Me:  
True  
Who do you think will like it then  
Wait didn’t you want to steal my hoodies

Ji Nyoungie:  
Yeah  
Wait a damn min  
Lol hyung if it’s meant to be a gift for me just tell me  
I won’t feel guilty or whatever

Me:  
Yes

Ji Nyoungie:  
Yes?  
Aw hyung you’re so sweet  
Thanks  
Love you

Me:  
What’s that mean

Ji Nyoungie:  
What’s what mean  
Love you?  
It means I love you........?  
Lol have you forgotten the Korean language suddenly

Me:  
No  
Jus5 asking  
Just*

Ji Nyoungie:  
Who’s jus5 now :/  
I’m already salty about jus2

Me:  
Shut up  
5 is above t in my keyboard  
It was a typo

Ji Nyoungie:  
Just say you have stubby thumbs and go

Me:  
Excuse me  
I have the smolest and most petite lil thumbs ever

Ji Nyoungie:  
Lol ik  
Such small hands  
I wonder what that says about....  
Other appendages ;)

Me:  
That’s actually revolting  
And it’s not like you don’t know

Ji Nyoungie:  
Oh I know  
;)

Me:  
What does that mean

Ji Nyoungie:  
The wink?  
Uh have you forgot the universal human sign language too  
I made a sexual joke  
And winked to signify  
.....  
What’s wrong with you

Me:  
Joke  
Haha

Ji Nyoungie:  
WTF  
WHO ARE YOU AND WBAT DID YOU DO WITH JAEBUM HYUNG

Me:  
Shut your pretty mouth

Ji Nyoungie:  
What  
I STILL DON’T KNOW WHO YOU ARE BUT BOY YOUCAN GEDDIT

Me:  
That’s offensive to gay people

Ji Nyoungie:  
??

Me:  
Because  
Y’know  
You’re not gay

Ji Nyoungie:  
I didn’t say that  
Hyung? Hello?  
I know this isn’t something to tell over text......

Me:  
That’s okay  
We’re past that

Ji Nyoungie:  
Yeah  
Yeah okay  
So I’m not gay  
But I’ve liked guys  
Guy*  
One guy  
I like one (1) guy

Me:  
You used present tense

Ji Nyoungie:  
¯\\(ツ)/¯ 

 

Jaebum’s heart sunk. His thumbs hesitated in the air. He worried his bottom lip and over-thought about whether or not he should think this through.

 

Me:  
Does he know

Ji Nyoungie:  
No  
I tell him all the time but y’know  
He’s a stone wall

 

Familiar words. Maybe he’d been speaking to Mark way too much.

 

Me:  
Why not tell him directly

Ji Nyoungie:  
‘Why not’, he asks  
I do, but I can’t hope for anything  
Partly because we have a life that doesn’t allow that  
Relationships

Me:  
So he likes guys?

Ji Nyoungie:  
Yes?  
No?  
I don’t know  
He seems super straight

Me:  
Sucks  
I could snoop around  
Find out if he likes guys  
If he likes you

Ji Nyoungie:  
If that’s your round-about way of asking who it is  
The only thing I can tell you is that you’re not very subtle

Me:  
Sorry I just wanted to help  
Y’know, like a wingman  
But no it’s none of my business  
I don’t have to know

Ji Nyoungie:  
Right

Me:  
Oh btw when do you want the sweater  
Do you want me to send it by post or something

Ji Nyoungie:  
What  
Why  
That’s stupid  
Wear it to the company tomorrow  
I have something that I bought and abandoned in the wilder recesses of my closet  
It’ll look great on you  
We’ll exchange

Me:  
Won’t it be weird

Ji Nyoungie:  
What, us showing up in one set of clothes and then reappearing in each others’?

Me:  
Yes

Ji Nyoungie:  
¯\\(ツ)/¯ 

Me:  
But wouldn’t you rather it was new new

Ji Nyoungie:  
Would you

Me:  
Meh

Ji Nyoungie:  
It’s a meh for me too  
Seems most efficient this way

Me:  
Yeah

 

Jaebum switched off the screen and flopped onto his belly, burying his face in his pillow. Nora saw this as a prime opportunity to climb onto the small of his back. Jaebum didn’t feel like being a bed, especially today, especially now. He writhed to make for a hostile environment. Nora hopped off, annoyed. 

Jaebum screamed out his frustration into the white plushness of his pillow. He believed in catharsis and whatnot, although screaming like they did in the movies seemed too...tame to provide any of that relief. It did nothing to ease his confusion or tension, but everything to hurt his throat, and possibly his reputation with a neighbour or two, so he stopped. He tried to sleep instead.

It wasn’t like he had believed that he had had a chance anyway.

 

Ji Nyoungie:  
Btw  
You’re hands are actually  
Really pretty  
Like  
When you dance  
And shit

Me:  
You’re still thinking about my hands?

Ji Nyoungie:  
I’m not!!!  
Just saying

 

Jaebum didn’t know how he fell asleep, but if there was a wrong way to do so, he’d found it.

Dreams bore down on him, and he twisted and shifted the whole night, half conscious and sometimes not, as reality and horrendous visions blended into a soup of discomfort and breathlessness. 

In the dream, he was telling Jinyoung about his feelings for him, and he didn’t even describe it right, obviously, because he himself didn’t know yet. And Jinyoung’s brows knitted together in confusion, and then disbelief. Then he stayed quiet for a long time.

Jaebum tried to stop dream-Jaebum, but he felt trapped and ineffective, pressure on his chest like an anvil, restricting his air flow and stopping his heart. He wanted to yell at him to stop everything before it became to late, but it was already too late. Jinyoung wasn’t saying anything.

Dream-Jaebum spoke Jinyoung’s name in a broken whisper. Jinyoung shook his head, eyes wide and spooked.

“Tell me it’s a joke,” he pleaded, lifting his shaky eyes to meet Jaebum’s. He looked so...... sad.

When Jaebum dropped his head, Jinyoung sighed dolefully.

“You, hyung,” Jinyoung stuttered desperately. “Hyung, it’s you,” and his hands were squeezing together on the table, “If it was anyone else-”

What should follow remained unsaid. _It would have been easier for me to reject._

Dream-Jaebum struggled to swallow, his throat had closed up. Jaebum felt a guilty sob rise up in a bubble, and he resolved to never make Jinyoung feel that way. He would never cost Jinyoung a friend. He couldn’t hurt him like that.  
The next morning, he put on his own clothes. He grabbed the bag that Jinyoung’s new sweater was in, and headed to the company.

 

//

 

Whatever chance he had at forgetting how deep and pleasantly evocative Jinyoung’s eyes were was lost the moment Jaebum stepped into the practice room and met them, blinding and mirthful and proud, even from across the room. 

They held him in place, and Jaebum did not complain, for in that one look he felt nurtured and profoundly accepted, and Jinyoung came closer with a merry little jump in every alternate step, giving him a close-lipped smile and a side hug to welcome him back after Taipei. Jaebum allowed himself to melt, and without his volition the stresses of the past couple of weeks flowed away. It was so easy with him. He didn’t need cats or a cold bedroom and thick duvets. He needed more hugs from Jinyoung.

Was he going to stake this? Against his rotten feelings? Didn’t seem fair, certainly not.

Mark sat on the sofa, with his arms around Jackson’s shoulders. He grinned when he saw their interaction.

“Finally!” he exclaimed to Jackson. “Our dads meet after many a laborious night!”

“We’re both younger than you?” Jaebum reasoned. He nestled the crown of his head into the crook of Jinyoung’s neck, eyes shutting on their own.

“Aw, our parents are adorable!” Jackson teased, clasping hands over his chest.

Jaebum rolled his eyes at them. Jinyoung slid an arm around his waist, and pulled him in closer, squeezing them together for a second before letting go.

Why couldn’t it always be like this? Without things like unexplained feelings getting in the way?

For Jinyoung, it was probably that way still. And Jaebum intended to preserve that.

At that point, Youngjae came in, and clapped his back as a greeting. 

“You’re back, thank God,” he groaned. “Jinyoung wouldn’t stop going on about how difficult it is to manage us lot without you.”

Mark gestured widely, impish grin in place. “Parents,” he insisted.

Jaebum shared a look with Jinyoung, who shook his head. Jaebum understood. _Boys will be boys._

Mark just blinked at them like they were the stupidest creatures to roam the planet. He pointedly looked at each of them, like it couldn’t be more obvious.

So, they were sort of the parents. Whatever, Mark. Shut up. It was the purest, friendliest co-parentship ever, and that much, Jaebum could admit. He was sick of thinking what other, slightly more romantic meanings that everything Jinyoung did could contain. He was moving past that now. For Jinyoung’s sake and his own.

 

//

 

By the first week of April, all the members had caught up with the drama Jinyoung was in. As expected, the teasing followed.

And it was carnal. Merciless.

“Read me, Jin-ah,” Jackson said, throwing his arms around Jinyoung’s shoulders and fake-attempting to get a kiss as Jinyoung just smiled through the pain and pushed him away.  
BamBam and Yugyeom had launched into their own duet of _T.T_ , Mark and Youngjae laughing their heads off as Jackson persevered.

“You’ll never let me hear the end of this, will you?” Jinyoung said, dodging another kiss aimed at his cheek. He looked to Jaebum for salvation.

“Jackson, that’s enough,” Jaebum said. It was small and subdued and just for the sake of it if anything, but the room quietened, and BamBam’s silent “Oooooh!” earned him a kick in the shin from Youngjae, God of subtlety.

Jackson raised his hands, up and off of Jinyoung, in surrender.

That’s when it begun.

The air.

Maybe forcing it in had caused it to eke out from elsewhere, because all Jaebum could feel in the air was the thing he’d felt for Jinyoung and tried his darnedest to cut off before it grew too resilient to knives.

Jaebum became wary, his secret literally out in the open like that, casting sideward looks at his friends. He couldn’t have been the only one to notice.

But perhaps he was, because the others had gone back to teasing Jinyoung (from afar) and no suspicious looks were sent his way.

They didn’t have many days off. And when they did, they chose to be in their own houses and chill (=sleep).

But they didn’t want to be just “work friends”, they’d decided as much. When they had all made the decision to move out, they’d promised they’d still all hang out like this. At home, doing nothing. They didn’t know how, but even early on they had all realised that the small but important things in life all resided in the nooks of unplanned events with the most special people.

It was BamBam’s house this time, so he had ordered some food, and they munched and they talked shit. Jaebum inquired after Jackson and his upcoming single, but was labelled boring and made to sit quietly instead.

From across the table, between Yugyeom and Mark, Jinyoung gave him a pity smile. It overlapped the smile he was already wearing, which was the amused one he had for how funny he found his friends, and it was wide and wonky, eyes crinkling up into happy little curves, and Jaebum was able to catch an all-enclosing glimpse before Jinyoung covered it up with a hand.

It struck him again that Jinyoung was just so flippin’ beautiful, but he chose to ignore it.

Mark threw his hands up in frustration. Over what, Jaebum was yet to know.

 

//

 

Jaebum was in his studio, passively working on some lyrics. He wasn’t feeling particularly poetic today, but he tried to be productive and tweak some to sound smoother on the ears.  
He hadn’t done his hair, had done nothing special to his face. He was sure what he was wearing clashed abysmally, but he didn’t stop to look. It was that sort of a day.

It was quiet in his studio. There was no beat or melody running in the back, there was no chatter of any of the producer hyungs, because they were in their own studios, and the whole narrow corridor that led to his studio was empty and quiet.

His pencil scratched audibly across the paper as he tried to come up with something that rhymed. His thoughts seemed to flow better through a graphite medium over anything else. It reminded him of humble beginnings, he guessed, and it was a nice grounded place for the most genuine lyrics to sprout up from.

The air from the vents shifted and sighed. Jaebum relished the quiet. The cold stillness. The undisturbed atmosphere and the bare hum of the noise from somewhere else in the world, and not his problem, was something to enjoy.  
Periodic footsteps took him out of it for just a second, but they were quiet enough to not break the silence. Jaebum’s hair prickled in anticipation of an individual, and the astringent noise that they were sure to bring with.  
Instead, the door swung open on its hinges as softly as it could, barely making a sound as it sliced the air, and then stilled. Two muffled thuds. A click.

A few more steps, but Jaebum still crouched over his notebook.

Jinyoung draped himself on the back of Jaebum’s chair, looking over his shoulder and into his writings. Jaebum moved his hand out of the way so he could see.  
There was no greeting. They didn’t look at each other. It wasn’t necessary.

Jinyoung reached for the page and flipped it to the one behind. 

“Oh!” he said, impressed. “You’ve done a lot of work already.” The breath of his words whispered warm over Jaebum’s ears.

“Not really,” Jaebum mumbled.

Jinyoung hummed, and Jaebum could almost feel it vibrate in his chest. Jinyoung’s hand retreated to the head of the chair, and he read to himself for a while.

Jaebum waited patiently, throat drying up when he realised he could see Jinyoung’s lips out of the corner of his vision, forming the words silently. There was something so mesmerizing about the way the curved softness moved against each other.

Jaebum tried to bring his focus to his hands, that lay purposelessly framing the page, but to no avail. He kept noticing the strangest shit. Damn, why did his palms look so weird? Had they always looked this way?

Jinyoung’s breathing changed suddenly, a sharp inhale that set his rhythm stilted, and then his cautious fingertips slid down Jaebum’s bicep, traced across his inner forearm and up to his wrist. He followed along the lines of angry red that were pronounced on his even skin, where Odd had exhibited his distaste when he’d attempted to declaw the furry demon baby earlier that day. 

“Hyung,” and the word broke in the middle.

Jaebum placed his fingers over Jinyoung’s, sliding it further away from the dull throb of a memory. “Odd,” he said in lieu of an explanation.

A breath of relief escaped Jinyoung, brushing past Jaebum’s ear and jaw again. 

“Oh,” he whispered. And then again, “Oh.”

A sinking thought appeared in Jaebum’s head.

“You thought I-?”

“Aigo hyung~” Jinyoung appeased, wrapping his arms around Jaebum’s neck and squooshing their faces together, swaying from side to side. Jaebum couldn’t remember what the problem was, suddenly. Jinyoung was cute like that. 

In his chest, Jaebum’s heart did a stab and a swipe. 

That wasn’t right. Those were b-boy moves. As a muscle, it wasn’t supposed to do that. Not right at all.

 

//

 

None of that funny business.

There wasn’t a place Jaebum didn’t write that down.

A sticky note on his fridge. The owner’s info on his phone. The folders on his work computer were arranged to spell out “NUNO DAT FUNNY BIDNES”, because he was just dedicated like that.

And he was _mad_ desperate.

See here was the thing. He couldn’t walk into a room, see Jinyoung, and _not_ smile until his lips went numb. He couldn’t sit next to Jinyoung and _not_ lean into his side. He couldn’t _not_ laugh at Jinyoung’s dorky little jokes, they were the funniest thing in the world.  
Jaebum even tried to associate Mark’s stupid suggestive face to his new life motto, since he seemed to cartoonishly pop up with it whenever anything that could be considered said funny business went down.

Today, however, was the hardest of days.

And it was all Mark and Jackson’s fault.

Jackson and Jinyoung were naturally touchy people, and Jaebum was as used to that as he could get. But there was no need to get _this_ flirty. Especially Mark. There was no reason for him to wink at him, there was no reason for them to compliment him in _that tone of voice,_ no reason for them to touch Jinyoung’s thighs and his ass. No reason at all.

And Jinyoung was laughing, flustered and amused, hitting them playfully on the shoulder to get them to stop. 

Jaebum didn’t realise that he was fuming until BamBam tentatively tapped his shoulder. 

“Ah, hyung?” he said meekly, “Your chin is about to fall off or something.”

Youngjae gasped. He pointed to where Mark was trying to pull Jinyoung onto his lap, a hand covering his mouth as if he was scandalised. 

“Mark hyung,” he then called, and three heads turned to him. “You’re making Jaebum hyung jealous over here.”

The blood drained from Jaebum’s face and down to his toes, ears on virtual fire, his life force curdling in an attempt to end itself then and there. Jinyoung’s clear, yet confused looking eyes searched Jaebum’s, but Jaebum looked away and onto the wooden floor, and set his jaw. Refused to feel anything through the heat in his cheeks.

Their trainer called for all of them right then, and the timing could.....could have been better actually. But not bad, he could make do with this.

But what he had initially thought to be escape had just been a pause. A commercial break. When it was time to go home, the horror film resumed.

Jinyoung caught up to him in the corridor with worried-looking brows and, Jaebum could already feel his resolve sublimate. 

The air. Oh no, _no,_ the weird air from back at BamBam’s place, it was back, and in full force.

“Hyung, what did he mean, jealous?” Jinyoung asked, trying to meet his eyes again, but Jaebum deftly kept that from happening. If Jinyoung read through him, it was game over. All that fuss over covering up the funny business would have been in vain. Worst of all, Jinyoung would be hurt.

“I don’t know,” Jaebum said under his breath, so weakly. He wouldn’t have believed it himself.

“Hyung.” Confused. Curious, feathery, boggled, bemused. And maybe....hopeful?

“I don’t know,” Jaebum repeated, shrugging one shoulder, trying to downplay it so that he didn’t give anything away. “It’s just that...you’re touchy with everyone, so it’s not like-”

For as long and hard as Jaebum had tried to keep this from Jinyoung so as to not confuse or repel the man, he hadn’t thought of there even being another possible reaction to the subject. But for as long as the two have been in each other’s close circles, Jinyoung had kept surprising him. Today was no exception.

Because with those few fragments of a sentence, Jinyoung caught on. He understood. How deeply, was a still a mystery to Jaebum, but enough for him to scrunch his nose in annoyance and take one step forward.

And another.

Jinyoung took his face gently in the palm of his hands, gazed tenderly into his eyes, and it seemed both like a million years and just a few milliseconds had passed with Jaebum’s heart beating wildly before Jinyoung leaned in.

Jaebum’s eyes fluttered close instinctively, dumbfounded and shy.

God, _what?!_

Jinyoung pressed his lips over Jaebum’s left eye. He pulled away, and let hands drop.

Mark walked past them with an all-knowing smile, with not so much as a glance or an acknowledging nod. He just fucking smirked and didn’t bother to hide it as he crossed behind Jinyoung, legs swishing as he strolled easily along the rest of the corridor towards the elevator.

Jaebum’s face burned. Jinyoung was still in his space, smiling, somehow looking kind and warm with his lips closed and eyes crinkling like that.

“Don’t think that,” Jinyoung mumbled, chin tipping to one side, but what ‘that’ was, Jaebum did not know, even though he was the one doing the supposed thinking. “You’re special to me, hyung.”

Jaebum nodded, curt and small, his left eyelid buzzing with heat. The urge to bring his fingers up to ghost over where Jinyoung’s lips had grazed them was stronger than ever. He held it in, however. At least until he was alone and could smile a stupid smile to himself and shamble languidly into his room.

It wasn’t until then that what Jinyoung had said in the end registered.

_You’re special to me, hyung._

Damn it. One more thing for his stupid brain to over-analyse.

 

//

 

Jaebum hadn’t paused to consider how interwoven into his social life Jinyoung had become.

Every close friend of his had become a friend of Jinyoung’s over the years, every friend of his Jinyoung’s acquaintance, every acquaintance of his, for him a familiar face. Anyone Jaebum could confide in knew Jinyoung personally, and that closed up many of his cordially built rapports for Jaebum to discuss his latest conundrum with.

Unless he wanted to speak about this with his parents or cousins, which he didn’t.

So he took to the internet, as any other millennial would.  
He debated using the incognito mode for about 30 hot seconds, after which he decided, fuck it, what was a questionable search going to do to his career, even if people were to find out?

A few more seconds later, his black server opened a yahoo answers page.

 

**How do I know if I like guys?**

_So lately I’ve been super bothered by my male friend whenever he takes his shirt off and this has never happened before, help?_

| Depends. Maybe you just like him, have you considered that? It’s not new to be straight and be gay for one (1) person. Or maybe he’s your sexual awakening. Either way, he’s special.  
As to your question.... idk man think about touching his dick. Does it turn you off? Or...? Let’s leave it at that.

 

Jaebum closed the browser with fumbling hands and threw his phone across the bed, face burning with a prickly flush. _Special_ , the text had read.  
Special.

 

//

 

There were supposed to be 3 cars.

Whenever they stayed back too late at the company, the designated drivers usually went back home after their shifts, leaving the cars behind for them to borrow and return the next day. Jaebum was used to this, because inspiration usually struck him late in the evening, and when he was feeling it, which he didn’t as often as he’d like, as often as he should for smooth sailing in the profession that he was in, he liked to sit at his desk with his headphones on to drown out the world and see it through. And when he came back to the world, it was usually way too late.

Today, Jaebum had stayed late to smoothen out a composition that had been irking him for the past week. He still wasn’t quite satisfied, but at one point he couldn’t keep his eyes open wide enough to glare at the led screen of his system, so in the end he’d given up holding his eyes open with his index finger and thumb, and decided to call it a day. 

Jackson had stayed behind too. He was so busy these days, preparing for Oxygen and running Team Wang and all that. Poor boy got only 5 hours of sleep per day, if he was lucky. Jaebum would help out, but he figured there were some things he should let his loved ones handle and experience for themselves.

And Jinyoung had.... he wasn’t sure. Worked on choreo or something, who knew. He had been there in Jackson’s studio when Jaebum had swung by blearily. The two had been slumped over Jackson’s computer, listening to something through the same headphones which hung around Jackson’s neck. Jinyoung had jerked up when Jaebum called for them both of them to go home too.

Now, as they walked out together into the misty night of late winter, there were only 2 fogged up windshields in sight.  
Jinyoung huffed, his breath making a puff of white, which floated away and dissipated into the air as quickly as it had appeared.

Jackson’s spine stiffened as he realised what the issue was. He raced towards the cars with a yap of laughter and a burst of unsolicited energy that seemed to come out of nowhere, leaving behind a confused and sleepy Jaebum. Jinyoung tripped after him after a moment had passed.

Which was when it dawned on Jaebum that Jackson was the one with the keys.

Jaebum trudged on and watched the scene unfold. Jackson took the bigger car, because he was childish like that. He rolled the window down and tossed the other set of keys to Jinyoung.

Now Jaebum had a choice.

He could ask Jackson to drive him home. Or he could ask Jinyoung.

But with the strange atmosphere that had emulsified around them over time, Jaebum wasn’t betting on it. 

But right then, Jackson’s car screeched away, an arm stretched out the window and waving farewell to Jaebum as it passed him staring at it, standing frozen on the sidewalk.  
He stared at the taillights for a few more seconds, bewildered. That had been....rude.

Another similar, but smaller car pulled up to him and paused, humming silently, radiating heat and inviting him in. The window opened, and there it was, Jinyoung’s winning smile, tired, but still just as effective, _actually_ inviting him in.

Jaebum flopped into the seat unceremoniously. He didn’t even bother with the seat-belt, even though to him it was second nature to reach for it.

There was no music. They didn’t talk, either. And yet, it was too loud, with their weird atmosphere weighing down on them, berating them as if they were constantly doing the wrong handshakes, tripping up the stairs and clanging gongs in board meetings. Must have been because he’d been lugging around this burden for far too long.

How much longer was this going to hold up? Jaebum was so sick of it already. And he was scared too, scared that this will erode their friendship, fray up the edges and wear it down before it could go for good. These were the things that he was so frustrated about that he couldn’t voice, while normally, he would’ve told Jinyoung.

Shouldn’t he though? If there was something that was askew in their friendship, it was also Jinyoung’s business. If it had to be solved right, both parties had to get involved. Jaebum was tired of having to try and make amends by himself.

His mind showed him images of Jinyoung, as he had appeared in his dream. That was enough for Jaebum to concede that, no, he was just going to keep at this for long as he could. This was just his problem, in a way. His stupid brain, his stupid heart. There was no need to alert Jinyoung to this when things on his side were running well.

“Just stay at my place, your house is too far,” Jinyoung said.  
It was too late at night. It was too late at night to protest, to argue, but it was too late at night to drive around too. 

Jaebum hummed in agreement and let his eyes slide shut.

It only seemed like a couple of seconds had passed after that when suddenly Jinyoung’s voice was shaking him awake, a hand sliding into his curled one to pull him out of the car and into a familiar garage. The hand only held tighter after that, like it didn’t want to let go, and it gave Jaebum’s eyelids all the more validation to be lazy.

“Hyung, watch your step,” and it was at times like these that Jinyoung sounded the same as he had 10 hears ago. Soft and cautious. A little gullible, but trusting and kind. He had just been a boy then.

It definitely wasn’t a boy now, an arm around Jaebum’s waist, and no uncertainty in his grip or his step as he guided him into his dark house. Or maybe he had switched on the lights and Jaebum couldn’t see it because he had his eyes closed.

Jaebum had an excellent sense of direction, like Sherlock levels of skill, but right now, he couldn’t tell you which room of the house he was in, as familiar as Jinyoung’s house was to him. He was listless with how sleepy he was, and couldn’t keep his focus to do the simplest of additions. He tried to count the number of steps he was taking to get himself to snap back, but then it was just Jinyoung there. He could afford to let go. 

Jaebum floated on the edge of consciousness for a little while. He was asleep, but he was aware, he could hear the ringing of water against tile, and he could feel the downy cushion he was propped up against, probably on the mini couch in Jinyoung’s room.

“Hyung? Are you gonna shower?”

He should. He’d regret it in the morning when the sheets stuck to him, skin clammy and unpleasant. If he even got sheets, that is. From the looks of it he might just be getting the couch.

Jaebum grunted in annoyance. Jinyoung took that as a yes.

“Go, then. The water’s all warmed up. I’ll get you a change of clothes.”

Jaebum let his eyelids peel open. Jinyoung hung over him, shielding him and his sensitive eyes from the low yellow light of the table lamp which stood on the bedside drawer. There was a shadow under Jinyoung’s eyes, and the ambient light coming from the window showed the tiny stubble coming through above his lips.

Lips.

Had they always been this pink and soft? With the gentlest and most inviting of curves, pillowy and quirked up at the edges in a constant smile? Had they always been this close, parting with the quietest of pops, so accessible, his to take?

Jaebum’s mind provided him with a sour image of Jinyoung kissing his co-star in the drama he was in. Jaebum scrunched his nose and pushed himself up, nudging Jinyoung gently to the side to toddle precariously into the bathroom.

It wasn’t that he was jealous. He was just mad that, even given the opportunity, she didn’t kiss him right.

The water had been left running. Jaebum shed his clothes, leaving them scattered over the sink, and stepped in.

Jaebum tried really hard to convince himself to shampoo his hair, to soap himself down, but he was able to mollify himself with a promise of a thorough scrub in the morning, when he got back to the comfort of his own bathroom and his own toiletry brands.

The warm shower lulled his senses, and he let his eyes slide shut. The warm, humid air soothed his skin, the singing of the water rushing past his ears and dripping off his fringe. Jaebum stood still to let the heat curl and surround him, permeating his skin and waking him up from within.

The door creaked open, and Jaebum startled. Jinyoung came in with a pile of carefully folded pastel, shooting him a smile when he caught him looking at him with a mixture of horror and embarrassment and bewilderment, because he really had been caught off guard, in the most vulnerable state possible.

Not that this was something Jinyoung hadn’t already seen. At this point Jaebum was sure that the members had collectively seen him in the nude far more than his mother has. But still. Just because it was a common thing didn’t mean it wasn’t just as disconcerting each time. 

Jinyoung spotted his clothes strewn over the sink, and set about collecting them, slinging them over his shoulder, and then putting down what he’d brought for him in the space he’d cleared, before walking out without a word.

When the door clicked shut, Jaebum flinched. He wasn’t aware that he’d been so on edge the whole time Jinyoung had been in there with him, the strange atmosphere floating behind him in tow as his bare feet had stepped over the cold floor. And Jaebum had inexorably watched him with wrought nerves out of the corner of his eyes. It wasn’t even like he had wanted to. But since divine bodies had tremendous gravity, his eyes had....okay never mind that was too bad a joke to even make in his head.

In the end, Jaebum shampooed his hair in a trance (maybe even twice or thrice, he couldn’t say for sure. The combination of being too sleepy, and being energized by the water hitting his face like a thousand little pats to his cheek making him feel like he was floating 3 feet above his own head. Maybe he hadn’t shampooed at all, who knew) and wrapped himself up in the white fluffiness that Jinyoung had brought for him. It cocooned him in cosy heat, and he stayed like that for a little, dripping onto the tile.

Jaebum tried to think straight. When things felt off, it always helped recuperate when he tried to plan his next few hours.  
So, sleep. That was at the top of his list. Try not to do anything weird that would tip Jinyoung off about.... about how Jaebum had been feeling about him lately. And about the Air™ around them that only Jaebum seemed to be aware of.

Jaebum breathed in a few deep breaths. Got dressed. Without underpants. It amused him that he was here in Jinyoung’s house and sleeping in his room (maybe) and wearing his clothes and _not wearing any underwear._ He’d never imagined that this was the way it would happen, if it did even end up happening. It was like the cosmic forces that ran the universe loved to tease him. 

_Yugyeom?_ he thought, looking up frightfully at the sky. But it was a moment’s folly.

Jaebum re-entered the bedroom, after a lot of pitiful self-deception that went unseen. Jinyoung was making the bed, which now notably had two pillows against the headboard.  
As expected. Looking at the pillows side by side was like a slap to Jaebum’s face. He shouldn’t feel like this. Jinyoung trusted him to lie beside him and feel nothing, like two friends who had transcended friendship itself in over 10 trying years. Anything else would be betrayal. And Jaebum couldn’t do that to him. He couldn’t feel anything.

He was going to lie there and pretend that Jinyoung didn’t make him feel everything.

Fake it till you make it, right?

But first, some water. Something to rehydrate his throat after watching Jinyoung stretch and groan, after accidently noticing the honey-gold strip of skin that peeked under the hem of his shirt, and the sharp relief that his white pants and baby blue shirt provided for it.

Jaebum padded towards the kitchen, fetching some sparkling water from the pathetically empty fridge and some grapes while he was at it. It was nice to eat something cold after a shower. He ate the grapes slowly, although he was sure he could’ve eaten them all at once, but he didn’t want to go back at the exact wrong time and catch Jinyoung in a towel, or worse. 

He cursed Yugy- the sky again. He threw a grape up in the air and caught it with his mouth, which proved to be quite difficult in the darkness, but he managed. He tarried for a while, eyes dragging over the dark order and general minimalism of Jinyoung’s kitchen. He gulped up the water and then decided enough time had passed.

Jinyoung was out of the shower – fully dressed, heavens be blessed – hair wet and a towel around his shoulders. So not _that_ blessed. Jinyoung like this was also a sight to behold. Jinyoung like anything was a sight to behold.

Jaebum remembered to keep himself in check.

Jinyoung settled on the edge of the bed, and the atmosphere was still something else. Jinyoung began to towel dry his hair, and his back was turned away from Jaebum that it gave him the initial burst of courage and short-sighted stupidity to bring something up that had been eating away at his insides.

“So,” he chirped, and it came out unnatural and high. He cleared his throat and tried again. “There’s a lot of kissing and stuff in the drama.”

Great. Excellent. Keeping self in check? Mission accomplished. 

Jinyoung grimaced, or so it seemed. He shrunk into himself, in any case. But since they’ve been around each other so often, for so long ( _God_ ), Jaebum could predict his reactions with stunning accuracy. Over the years they’d grown and changed together, and Jaebum had been there to observe and learn the smaller things about him all throughout. Jaebum had been there with him when they had auditioned and got accepted into JYP together. He had been there with him when Jinyoung’s voice had broken for the second time. They’d survived through multiple dorm shifts, until finally they ended up in different houses altogether. He’d gone through with 2 debuts with him, and when the others had been nervous and scared, both of them had swallowed their own anxiety and given them advice and strength, but had needed to hold onto each others’ hands under the table. While they spoke on the phone, he could almost see what sort of expressions Jinyoung would be making. Whenever Jaebum went outside and saw something, like a sweater or a vase or something that he knew Jinyoung would like, it reminded him of him and usually he turned out to be right. At least, from what validation Jinyoung gave him when he took pictures and sent it to him. 

“Well,” Jinyoung said, pausing with the towel still over his head. “The genre _is_ partly romantic.”

The air coiled heavy around them with unspoken words. Or maybe Jaebum was imagining it. He had a few (ahem) unspoken words, after all. Maybe he should let a few out, deflate the tension.

“And you’re okay with....the excessive kissing?” he asked.

It was not excessive. There were maybe three (3) instances.

Jinyoung laughed, short and almost like a bark of disbelief. But he showed no signs that he was going to produce a reply, so Jaebum let it go.

The tension wasn’t diffused one bit. Jaebum huffed in frustration and bit down on his lip. Why he hadn’t stuck to his original plan of Padlock Everything Up, he didn’t know. But maybe it was because Jinyoung’s expressive eyes seemed to bore into him and unravel all his truths effortlessly. Or maybe it was his fault for falling apart like badly made dough under Jinyoung’s gaze.

Jaebum knelt on the mattress, and felt it pull him in in a cold and dry embrace. Satisfied, he clambered the rest of the way in and shifted under the sheets, stretching his toes and sinking into the pillow cosily.

Jinyoung flung his towel away, turned of the bedside lamp, and wriggled under the covers too. When he settled, Jaebum could smell the scent of strawberry soap that had persisted on Jinyoung’s skin.

Jinyoung’s skin. Probably not the best thing to think about when he was scantily clad, and _in Jinyoung’s clothes_ , and barely a foot away from the no doubt soft, supple, warm....

“It’s all acting, y’know?”

Jinyoung’s voice drifted up into the blue quiet of the dappled moonlit room. It was still strange between them, and in the absence of light it had twisted into something else, like Jinyoung knew something that Jaebum didn’t, but still, Jaebum couldn’t put his finger on it.

“Yeah.” It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter. 

Then why did the word come out of him sounding so solemn?

Jinyoung poked his side, presumably with a pout on his face. “Ay hyung, don’t be sulky.” 

“I’m not,” he protested, but still got assaulted by another wave of calculated pokes. Jesus, Jinyoung knew where to poke him.

Ew abort abort abort.

“Stop,” he tried sternly, but Jinyoung cut him off with another jab at the softest part of his stomach. 

“Ow!” Jaebum complained, rubbing at his side, but the barrage was endless.

He needed to put an end to this. 

Jaebum wrestled Jinyoung’s arms away, and when Jinyoung started using his feet instead, he had to improvise.

In a struggle of white sheets and feet and smiling, playful faces, Jaebum emerged victorious. Jaebum suspected that Jinyoung had not tried as hard because he was at fault. Or maybe because Jaebum was older, but that had never stopped anybody. 

Anyway, Jaebum ended up pinning Jinyoung down, straddling his hips and holding his arms above his head and away from Jaebum’s sensitive tummy, breath hard and stuttered, and grinning down at Jinyoung.

Jinyoung smiled up shyly, eyes half-lidded. His chest rose and fell heavily, colour high on his cheeks, bottom lip between his teeth.

Oh.

 _Oh_.

That had escalated quickly.

“You have nothing to worry about, hyung,” and Jinyoung was rolling his hips, right? He was, he was rolling his hips, ever-so-slightly, like he was testing the waters, and Jaebum could barely feel it, like, it wasn’t even there, so minute that Jaebum doubted himself, thought that he was imagining it because that’s what he wanted, because that was like his deepest, darkest fantasy come true, and no, oh _God_ Jinyoung was definitely grinding and it made his head whir and his skin go tight and hot. And what was he to do? Reject Park Jinyoung? 

Haha.

“I didn’t say that I was worried,” Jaebum muttered. 

And be hadn’t been. Confused, yes. Conflicted, hella, but not worried. He’d never been worried when Jinyoung was concerned. The man never gave him reason to worry either.

The air made sense now? Sort of? The strange lightness and the sudden cold heaviness and the unexplained tugs of his gut all made sense. He didn’t know how, or how he even knew that it did, but with Jinyoung stretched out like this under him he didn’t want to spend the time or brainpower to figure out what exactly it was that made sense.

All he could think about was this was what he hadn’t known he’d wanted. It was just like Jinyoung to know him better than himself. He’d known that he was attracted to Jinyoung, far more seriously than a friendly interest, although he’d never once admitted it to himself. He couldn’t. It was too taboo, to different, too sudden. 

But maybe it hadn’t. Maybe he’d felt this way for him all this while, but it had only been recently unearthed with a choice set of words.

_JBga daisuki._

Jinyoung was getting more confident now, boldly grinding up into Jaebum, wrists straining in his grasp. 

Jaebum suddenly felt abashed. He let go of Jinyoung’s arms to do as they pleased, and it seemed that what they pleased was to sneak up and under the hem of Jaebum’s shirt, to skim over the sore spots where he’d been so mercilessly poked. His soft fingertips felt like brands, leaving trails of heat everywhere they went. And they went _everywhere_. 

Jinyoung looked up expectantly. “Is this okay?” he whispered.

In the silver moonlight that flitted in through the half-open blinds, Jinyoung’s eyes looked tender, shining and molten brown. He bore an expression that looked guarded, yet so......stricken? Not with fear or guilt or panic, but with something like blissful adoration.

Jaebum nodded.

The hairs on Jaebum’s hands and at the nape of his neck stood up straight, a tremor travelling through them, partly under Jinyoung’s eyes and partly due to his playful hands. Although still just as clad as he was a few minutes ago, he felt bare as he felt his blood rush, thunder across his ears and flood down into where Jinyoung kept up his gentle pressure. 

Jaebum’s every cell was suddenly infinitely more aware.

“Jinyoung,” he whispered his name like a prayer, because he wasn’t so optimistic anymore.

Jaebum wanted this. The fibre of his being knew he did, but it was new. He’d never had an erection in the presence of a man, _because of_ a man. He wanted to be close to Jinyoung, and in the end that was what helped him shove the discomfort aside.

Jinyoung’s palms slid up and down his sides, as if to provide warmth and comfort. His eyes glittered like a night lake, but within them were now drifting weeds of doubt.

“Push me away,” Jinyoung pleaded. Jaebum didn’t push him away.

He should, for fuck’s sake, he _should_ push him away. He should apologize, tell him that it was all a mistake and that he was just way too sleep-drunk. What were they even doing? Friends didn’t do this. Especially people who’d been friends for 10 years. What did this mean for the future of them? And the team? What did Jaebum’s little crush mean now? Should he no longer consider it unrequited? But most importantly, _what were they even doing?_

But there was that something in the air, it was all laid bare now, nothing left unturned, unanswered. In the way Jinyoung’s touch seemed to set it aflame, no longer awkward or strange, but burning in low, tepid blue licks of fire. There was something in the way Jinyoung glanced at him adoringly when no-one else did, and how that sent his chest fluttering when it shouldn’t. There was something in the way Jinyoung had kissed his eye a few weeks ago, Jaebum had known it then as he knew it now. There was something, and Jaebum knew for sure, and he knew in the same degree that if he pushed him away now he’d never know what it was.

Jinyoung flipped them over, now between Jaebum’s spread thighs, sheets falling down to their shins, but it didn’t matter. Their bodies burned as they moved together, Jaebum’s mouth falling open, and it didn’t matter.

Jinyoung pressed a kiss between his brows. “Push me away,” he repeated, breath rough, gasps of pleasure rolling out from the back of his throat. He carded his fingers through Jaebum’ hair as he rocked into him.

Jaebum didn’t push him away.

It was a messy feeling, something alien, because neither of them were wearing underpants and the pyjama pants were super thin and he could feel everything. Every ridge and twitch and slide, so foreign and dirty, but it was Jinyoung. It was a strange feeling, reaching up and feeling a man’s chest under his hands, but it was Jinyoung. He’d never expected that he’d ever do something like this, but it was Jinyoung’s dick, Jinyoung’s hands in his hair, Jinyoung’s hot breath over the skin of his neck, and it was Jinyoung Jinyoung Jinyoung that it didn’t feel wrong at all. 

“Jinyoung......”

“ _God_ , hyung...” and it came out cracked. Jaebum had never heard him like this, so wanton, so breathless, but he loved it, he loved it, and it was confusing the shit out of him.

But he wanted to hear it again. He wanted to find out what the something was, and it was so close he could almost taste it.

Jaebum bucked up against Jinyoung, eager to get any noise out of him. He was rewarded with a strung-out gasp, and Jinyoung’s rhythm faltered.

Jaebum’s fingers braved onto Jinyoung’s ass, squeezing and massaging and pulling him closer, letting his legs open as far as they’d go to make room for Jinyoung’s hips. He tried to keep surprising him with his erratic thrusts upward. 

“Ah....hyung...”

The pleasure in Jaebum’s gut was building, every whimper and moan that Jinyoung made feeding its white-hot tightness, pushing him further and closer towards the edge. 

Jinyoung let out a keening breath and screwed his eyes shut. He moved against him a few more times, movements sharp and quick, and then he was leaning forward, pressing their foreheads together as Jaebum felt the fabric of his (Jinyoung’s) pants moisten. 

“Shit,” Jinyoung gasped. His eyes went wide, his flushed face betraying fear. He should have no strength in his arms, but he unsteadily pushed himself up off of Jaebum and scrambled into the bathroom.

The door slammed.

Jaebum wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

Jinyoung had told him, _begged_ him to tell him to stop, but he hadn’t. He’d been selfish, something he had promised himself he couldn’t be with Jinyoung on the line, but here he was, still young and stupid and letting his feelings get in the way. He rubbed his face over with his palms, drowning in guilt and sorrow and the smell of Jinyoung on his clothes, on the bed, but then remembered something important.

He traipsed over to the bathroom, and knocked as non-startlingly as he could.

“Jinyoung?” he called softly. There was no reply.

“I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

There was not even the sound of water. After what had happened on the bed, Jaebum had expected to hear water, but it was confusing and worrying that there was no sound of water. What was he doing in there?

Jaebum was about to knock again, when Jinyoung spoke out, just as stilted and choked up as he had in his dream from many nights ago.

“The door is open.”

Jaebum opened the door, pushing it just far enough to slip in and close it behind him. They didn’t need the reality of what happened out there to slip through.

Jinyoung was slouched over the sink, arms gripping it like his life depended on it. His head hung low, like he couldn’t even face himself in the mirror.

Jaebum approached him cautiously, but Jinyoung didn’t flinch away. Jaebum collected him carefully into his embrace, where Jinyoung sagged and went limp and motionless.

“Sorry about that,” Jinyoung said, but it sounded so hollow. Not insincere, but defeated and insecure.

“That’s okay,” Jaebum reassured. He swallowed, contemplating how much more he should let up. 

But if Jinyoung would feel better, he wouldn’t hesitate.

“It was okay, really. I didn’t mind it.”

Jinyoung bristled. 

“Didn’t mind the- the sex?”

“Yeah,” Jaebum said, rubbing his back comfortingly. “I liked it. I liked it when you. Yeah.”

“Okay,” he said steadily. “Good to know.”

Jinyoung seemed alright with leaving it at that, but Jaebum still had something nagging him.

“What about your.....the dude you like?” he questioned. 

Because if he had just been a rebound he needed to know.  
If he had to keep holding onto that secret, he needed to know. Especially now that he knew exactly what that something was. It would be more difficult to hide it now that Jaebum knew what it was, and he wanted to know if he should keep it hidden at all.

Jinyoung straightened, but he didn’t look him in the eye. He furrowed his brows at the floor, but the corners of his lips screwed up into a small, inconspicuous smile.

“You really are a stone wall, aren’t you?” he said, almost to himself.

Jaebum was tired of hearing that word being thrown around him. He didn’t like how Jinyoung said it either, like he felt like Jaebum was a little slow.

“I’m not,” he said hotly, trying to keep it civil but still a little ticked off. “It’s a fair question. I’ve made you cum but we still haven’t kissed. So tell me, what are we?”

Jinyoung winced, and Jaebum immediately felt sorry. He was about to grovel for forgiveness when Jinyoung finally got the courage to look into his eyes, and the breath was snatched from Jaebum’s lungs with how commanding and confident they looked.

Jinyoung faced him, pushing Jaebum back against the sink and crowding in on him, placing a hand on either side of him.  
“Whatever we are doesn’t need to have a name,” he said, with a toothy, cocky grin. “We didn’t have a name for it when we were best friends either.”

When they’d been best friends, they hadn’t had a title that said as much, because they had felt that they were much closer than that. Now Jaebum suspected that it was because of the fact that whatever they had had had never been a best-friendship, but still he couldn’t tell what this was. And according to Jinyoung, it didn’t need to, because they had never had titles. Jaebum chewed his lip, trying not to focus on Jinyoung’s face inches away from his.

“Just do what you wanna do,” Jinyoung prompted gently. “And that’s what we are.”

What he wanted to do?

What he wanted to do was to hold Jinyoung. What he wanted was to keep him close. What he wanted was to kiss Jinyoung whenever he wanted, share with him his breath and soul. For now, as awake as he was, he wanted to sleep next to him, he wanted to wake up next to him. He wanted to keep Jinyoung in his pocket, tote him around and not share him with anyone. 

Jinyoung, as he realised, was the most precious thing in his life. And it showed in the way he cupped his cheeks so gently and adoringly, leaning in to press his lips onto his smile.

It was chaste at first, pure and exhilarating, noses bumping, soft lips melding and fitting together warmly, but then Jaebum swiped his tongue along his lower lip to catch a taste, and Jinyoung opened his mouth and let him explore.

Jaebum took the opportunity to lean closer, letting their tongues move together. It was fortunate that their eyes were closed, because Jaebum’s face was burning up, and yet he couldn’t help but smile. His hands slipped down to Jinyoung’s waist, hugging him close. Jinyoung responded well, pressing into him, smirking when a low growl escaped from the back of Jaebum’s throat. His palms then slid up Jaebum’s chest, traversed his shoulders and then settled at the nape of his neck, and tugged at the hair there. He gasped as Jaebum deepened the kiss, and he tilted his head further. Unfortunately, their breath was running out, but even as they parted, Jinyoung chased after Jaebum’s lips with his eyes closed blissfully.

Jaebum watched as they opened slowly, as if underwater. Jinyoung’s eyes were glazed over, but Jaebum saw the sparkle of joy that resided within. His chest was heaving against Jaebum’s, and Jinyoung still played with the hair at the back of Jaebum’s head, his now redder lips easing into a dazed smile.

And that was the right way to kiss Jinyoung.

“We can be this?” Jaebum asked, unsure, hopeful, voice gone breathy and feeling so light-headed that he could pass out.

Jinyoung bumped their foreheads together, and the carefree joy in his eyes was the same as it had been 10 years ago. Damn, he could have had this for 10 years already, but he’d dragged it out for so long. He really was a stone wall, wasn’t he?

“Yes.” And Jaebum couldn’t tell for which question that answer was for. He didn't ask.

**Author's Note:**

> this is literally the most disappointing comeback an author could make but whatcha gonn do I don't write good
> 
> Sidenote: do you ever just. put two dots on your left eyelid with eyeliner and parade around telling everyone that you're cosplaying as jb? yeah I'm the only strange one? okay


End file.
